Screenland (May-Oct 1936)

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Only 60c at drug and toilet counters ; 10c size at Ten Cent Stores. • Or send a dime for trial package to NADINOLA, Box 164, Paris. Tenn. NADINOLA fiudgsCtsam CREAM DEODORANT tor overcoming BODY ODORS. MoVfOR YOUR rMONEY THE BEST TO BE HAD Tiding Gives complete »n*«an£s£ng. Harmless to Tin DANCING BY MAIL j\ Beg. or Adv. Tap $1. Sample Tap lesson IM J for Beg. with Standard Time-Step & Break, I r% I 25c. Beg. Waltz & Fostrot SI. HAL * * * * LEROY studied here. Send for list "S." KINSELLA ACADEMY, 2532 May St., Cincinnati. Ohio Anyway, my spies report that with the picture in its last days of production you can't pry Margaret and Henry apart on the set, and according to the gossip columns and my own eyes they've been making "entrances" at some of our best parties and night clubs. It's rather interesting to note that "The Moon's Our Home" had been in production only one week when little Miss Sullavan through her lawyers secured herself a Chihuahua, Mexico, divorce from William Wyler. When I asked if she planned to re-marry her former husband Margaret said, "I can't say just now — maybe." Another girl who has been doing a lot of stepping lately is Joan Blondell. Maybe it's spring — or maybe it's Dick Powell. Now Joan never was a Garbo exactly but she lived on the tip-top of Lookout Mountain and she was married to George Barnes, camera-man deluxe, who was quite a bit older than Joan and who liked nothing better than to come home from the studio, slip into his bed-room slippers, and lounge around for the rest of the evening. Joan wanted to go places and have laughs but George usually managed to talk her out of it. But came the Blondell-Barnes divorce, then a period of reconstruction wherein Joan was the "little mother" to Normie Barnes and nothing but the "little mother." But a gal in her twenties, full of health and vitality and an urge to have fun, can't be expected to sit around home pining over the wreck of her marriage forever. Joan sold the hill-top home, lock, stock, and barrel, moved away from the cold dreary mountain fogs to the sunshine of San Fernando Valley. She dieted and exercised systematically and lost twenty pounds. She bought herself some perfectly elegant clothes. Then she started having dates with popular Dick Powell who had the neighboring estate, and now with her new svelte figure and her new clothes she's dancing like mad all over the place. A party really isn't a party unless Joanie is there with a flower in her hair. Your guess is as good as mine but I guess that Joan and Dick will be married when Joan's divorce is final — it's been a long time since these old eyes have seen love in such bloom. And still another little gal to do a lot of fancy stepping lately is Bette Davis. Maybe it's spring — or maybe it's the Academy Award. Anyway, ever since that eventful evening some two years ago when Bette went to a gala premiere at the Chinese Theatre escorted by five young men as a publicity gag and the gag went sour on her Miss Davis has been more or less a homebody. Then her husband, the youthful Harmon O. Nelson, returned to Hollywood to play and sing at the Roosevelt Hotel, and then Bette won the Academy Award for the best performance of the year and ever since then Bette has been the belle of the ball. When la>t heard from she was on her way to New York to see plays and have herself one grand time. And of course Hollywood is still gasping from the shock of seeing Ronald Colman, who never goes any place, come out of his shell and actually start dating a few girls. The only place Hollywood has ever been able to find Ronnie was on Warner Baxter's or Bill Powell's tennis court, and suddenly for no reason whatsoever there he was lunching at Perino's with Benita Hume, dining at the Brown Derby with Benita Hume, and escorting Rosalind Russell to the races and then to the Trocadero. And if that wasn't enough to give us a stroke he actually attended the Countess di Frasso's party for Elsa Maxwell, sent Claudette Colbert roses, and gave a party himself. Such goings-on. With Cary Grant I just don't know — maybe it's spring or maybe it's England. Anyway, ever since he returned from England recently Cary has been very, very social and a host to Lord and Lady Plunkett, no less. (You really haven't "arrived" socially speaking in Hollywood until you have entertained British aristocracy.) He was slipping pretty badly until "Sylvia Scarlett" but I hear tell that since he gave that grand performance of a cockney bloke that every studio in Hollywood has been after him. He hasn't been seen with charming little Betty Furness, (not that she ha> minded, for she has a whole string of boy friends), since his return from England and I do hope all that Lord and Lady business hasn't gone to his head. And imagine our surprise when beautiful Irene Dunne started appearing night after night at the Trocadero, not to mention the Mayfair and Joan Crawford's party. Why, in the old days no one ever saw the fair Irene after six o'clock of an evening. She went home from the studio and that's all anybody ever knew. But now she's all over the place. Maybe it's spring — or maybe it's Dr. Frances Griffin. You see, Irene has always been one of those transcontinental wives. Her husband is Dr. Inspiration for aviators! New charmer Frances Farmer, with old friend GrantWithers, and handsome John Howard, malte an attractive trio for a new film.